


Ek Pyar Ka Naghma Hai

by maltedchocolatefudge



Category: SMZS, Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020), jeetushmann, karman - Fandom
Genre: Ambedkarite Kartik, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Aman, Emo Kartik, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Drama, Goggal is done with everyone's shit, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Internalized Homophobia, Karman, M/M, Please read, SMZS - Freeform, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Tenderness, ace Goggal, bollywood songs, boys' hostel, brahmanical patriarchy, delhi university, faiz wala love, i hate ABVP, intercaste love story, jahil as fuck, jai bhim, jai savitri, je suis suffering, maggi at 3AM, savarna bhajan mandali
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maltedchocolatefudge/pseuds/maltedchocolatefudge
Summary: What would have happened if Kartik and Aman had met at sixteen, in Allahabad, and fell in love? That's it. That's the story.TW: casteism, homophobia, parental abuse, bullying
Relationships: Ayushmann Khurrana/Jitendra Kumar, Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

“Ek pyar ka naghma hai  
Maujon ki rawani hai  
Zindagi aur kuchh bhi nahi  
Teri meri kahani hai”

(It’s a song of love, a rhythm of waves, life is nothing but our story)

Kartik Singh. Sixteen. “At his prime” apparently. Doing sit ups as a punishment for failing. 

“Papa ghar mein light nahi hoti kaise padhta?” Kartik says as he comes up, eyes welling up with tears.

*Tadak*another slap across his face. Kartik goes down again as a reflex. A lot of people will tell Kartik to laugh it off and move on, especially the adults, but you can’t make a sixteen year old understand that hits from his own father are supposed to be funny, that the debilitating fear he feels finding its place in every part of his body is supposed to be funny, that him feeling so small is supposed to be funny, that the heart that sinks, the blood that boils, the brain that freezes, that the hands that want to come up to defend never do due to the fear of being rendered badtameez, that the helplessness he feels, the powerlessness, the feeling of not having autonomy over your own body, is all supposed to be funny. And this happened every time he did something, even something as harmless as coloring his hair blue, his father didn’t approve of. He had just wanted to assert his identity as an Ambedkarite through his hair, he still didn’t understand what was so wrong with that.

Aman Tripathi. Sixteen. Feels a speck of something yellow on the back of his hand and realizes that his father has spat the dal on the cemented floor of the Tripathis’s aangan. 

“Kya ho gaya ji? Aur kuchh banane ka time nahi tha toh ab dal chawal hi khane padenge”, says Sunita Tripathi.

“Woh toh theek hai par dal mein namak toh daal diya karo.” At which the entire khandan tastes a spoonful of dal as if it was not the Tripathis’s aangan but the Supreme Court and the Tripathis, all a part of the jury. 

“Champa, namak toh tujhe daalne ko bola tha na”

“Didi, aapne toh aisa kabhi na bola. Goggal tu toh thi na rasoi mein, tu bata sabko.”

Rajni keeps mum.

“Achha toh ab bacche mujhe jhootha aur saccha batayenge. Yahi parvarish dena chahti ho tum apni beti ko? Aman Keshav ko lekar andar jaa.”

“Par kha..” Keshav tries to speak but is interrupted by Champa Chachi.

“Achha hai didi, kardiya na aapne apna paraya.”

“Arrey Champa aisa nahi hai, muh mat ghumao, bhabhi ka woh matlab nahi tha haina bhabhi?”

“Humne koi maze mein muh nahi ghumaya hai, hum roothkar baithe hain”

“Nahi, mera toh wahi matlab tha jo yeh samjhi hai, ab agar apne hi ghar walon ko apne iraadon ka vishwas dilana pade toh kya apne aur kya paraye.”

“Arrey mummy yaar Chachi ka woh matlab nahi tha” says Aman, trying to stop his family from jumping from one topic to another. One meal. All he wanted was a single meal without any tu-tu-main-main. But of-course that wasn’t possible in the Tripathi household. As the whole parivaar erupts into a non-sensical chaotic debate, Aman zones out to imagine what would it be like to live in a nuclear family. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a chamcha hitting the ground. Turns out Sunita Tripathi had thrown a chamcha at Champa in the heat of the moment. The two of them, bubbling with anger, would have torn each other apart if not for the others in the family. As the others held them back, Aman situated himself between his mother and his aunt hands out so as to stop them from charging at each other with their one-woman armies and bartan for weapons. At that moment, a smooth but raw voice (as Aman would describe it) shouts from the gate of the house, “Chachi, aapka tawa bana laya.”

“Arrey woh luhar ka beta hoga, Aman wahan se paise utha aur usko de aa. Tawa neeche rakhwa lena usse aur tu paise rakh dena neeche, matlab haath mat lagana”, Sunita Tripathi says without realizing that she’s asking her son to commit a crime. (Article 17 of the constitution abolishes the practice of untouchability. The practice of untouchability is an offence and anyone doing so is punishable by law.)

“Arrey mummy yaar, abhi ruko yahan ladai suljhaun ya tawa lun. Radha didi, aap lelo please usse jaakar.” He says as he passes on twenty rupees to Radha, the house-help and then goes back to resolving the fight. 

Aman picks up the namak himself from the kitchen, adds the right amount to everyone’s dal and just stands there, hands on his waist.

“Ab ho gaya ho sabka toh baithkar shanti se khana khaalein? Hadd ho matlab sabke sab.” At this all the adults sit down, ashamed, while Rajni bursts out laughing, Keshav joins in, so does Aman and in a matter of minutes the aangan is bustling with laughter and the usual domestic discussions. Aman realizes that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He has once again saved his family’s hearts from breaking but has unknowingly broken someone’s whose heart will soon matter the most to him: Kartik. As Kartik walks away from the Tripathi’s double storied house, he once again realizes his status in the casteist society of Allahabad. As he saw the other boy’s mother give him the money and tell him something, he had known that he will be asked once again to keep the tawa on the ground and pick the money from the ground, as if reminding him that he belongs to the dirt, but what he hadn’t known was that the Tripathi’s son wouldn’t even want to get anywhere near him and would send the house help to get the tawa. Kartik was not surprised but he was heartbroken.

“Zara mulk ke rehbaron ko bulao  
Yeh kuche, yeh galiyan, yeh manzar dikhao  
Jinhe naaz hai hind par unko laao  
Jinhe naaz hai hind par woh kahan hain”

(Call the guides of the country, show them these nooks, these streets, these scenes, bring the ones who are proud of this country, where are the ones who are proud of this country)


	2. Chapter 2

Kartik is gay. Although it took him some time to come to terms with it, a part of him had always known that he wasn’t attracted to women…the being attracted to men part is what took time to come to terms with. This is one of the problems, amongst many, with living in a heteronormative world. Being attracted to the same sex is such a foreign concept that it’s almost impossible to accept, even when you feel it yourself. Making others understand and accept who don’t know what it’s like to be different, seems like a mythical possibility only. Kartik had known he was gay as fuck since long but the hard part was accepting because acceptance makes denial difficult, it makes things real. And accepting that he’s different in other ways while already existing in the margins, includes a path full of self-hate and terror. 

Kartik lived in a locality of Dalits, one of the only two in Allahabad. In around fifty thousand kaccha one room “houses”, cramped up in an area of one square kilometer, one of the houses was Kartik’s. Living with his abusive father in the same room would have been hectic, to say the least, but his father was also neglectful which worked in Kartik’s favor. Kartik could roam around with his friends all night, doing whatever, and his father wouldn’t blink, mostly because he was sleeping and other than that because he just did not care until and unless it had to do with his reputation in the locality. So, Kartik could do all the awaragiri he wanted to in his part of town. 

Aman, on the other hand, became a family man at a very young age, not because he got married or had kids but because his parents were his unplanned kids since he was born. He had sorted his parents’ fights, his aunt’s and uncle’s fights, Goggal’s and Keshav’s fights, Goggal’s fights with everyone, Keshav’s and his father’s fights and so forth. In conclusion, Aman was a parentified kid. His parents weren’t neglectful per se but when it came to his emotional needs Aman had to fend for himself. Aman had his share of trust issues, though he couldn’t find a concrete reason for them, so, the only friend he had was Goggal. Aman had decided at 13 that Keshav shouldn’t be trusted when he blurted each and everything about their secret ‘Debonair’ adventures after a single slap from Chaman Chacha, as if he was on one of his narrations of just how beautiful Babita is. Babita was Keshav’s childhood crush and he would get married to her right now if it was legal. Babita did not give any bhav to Keshav. 

Aman did not understand how Keshav had such long crushes. Aman’s crushes did not sustain beyond a week or so. Maybe Aman had just not found the right woman (lmfao). As he was telling Goggal all this on the roof of the house, on their respective khaats with blankets wrapped around them, Goggal smiled at him knowingly.

“I toh don’t get attracted to anyone, be it a man or a woman.” Goggal bites her lips as she realizes Aman wasn’t ready for the last part.

“Behen, tu ladki hai, ladkiyon se kahan se attract hogi?” says Aman mockingly.

“Yaar kyun nahi ho sakti main ladkiyon se attracted?”

“Yaar matlab Goggal kuchh bhi. Tu ladki hai aur matlab ladki ladki thodi saath mein.”

“Nahi Aman ab tu bata kyun nahi ho sakti main ladki se attracted. And give me a logical answer.”

Aman keeps mum for a while, thinking if there’s any logical explanation behind the homophobia that he has been developing and brandishing all his life. He opens his mouth a few times but closes it as if realizing a point that makes his first thought seem more and more non-sensical.

“Bataa”, say Goggal, breaking the silence.

“Yaar theek hai tujhe jisse pyar karna hai kar, kisi se bhi nahi karna toh mat kar, meri jaan na khaa.”

“Teri jaan nahi khaa rahi hun, tujhe bas samjha rahi hun ki tu bhi ladkon se pyar kar sakta hai.”

“Chhee yaar Goggal”, he says, followed by a few puking sounds.

“Aman tujhe na sharam aani chahiye. Tu na hi sirf ek puri community ki taraf disrespectful ho raha hai balki apni taraf bhi hua hai, par main bhi kya bina saanp ke been baja rahi hun. Aayega tujhe samajh, abhi nahi toh kuchh saalon mein par yeh soch liyo ki tab tak bohot der na ho jaye. Itna mat nafrat karlena kuchh logon se ki apne aap se hi nafrat ho jaye.” Goggal turns, removes her shades and goes to sleep.

It’s almost three in the morning, Aman sits up after his many attempts to go to sleep because Goggal’s words keep ringing in his ears. The entirety of Allahabad is silent in that moment. Aman looks up and sees that the sky is pitch black as if projecting the darkness that Aman carries in his heart and mind about himself, but there are a few stars, there always are. He stretches his hands in front of him. A thought crosses his mind. “Do these hands want to caress a man?” But he shuts it out immediately and forces his eyes shut. A part of him thinking, “If I can’t see the real world, the world can’t see the real me. Oh shut up Aman. This is the real you. You don’t have any secrets so just shut the FUCK UP.” 

The next morning all three of them wake up grumpily when they feel water seep in from their razais. 

“Yaar chachi phirse nahi.”

“Arrey ab uthoge bhi. School nahi jana kya? Baarish bhi shuru ho gayi hai. Goggal chat se kapde bhi uthati lana.”

“Behenchod sab main hi karun iss ghar mein kya. Subah subah shuru ho jata hai inka tamasha.”

“Goggal chill maar thoda.”

“Aman tu toh mujhse baat hi mat kariyo. Keshav chal kapde utha.”

It’s 8:30 AM. The three of them were ready for school in their co-ordinated uniforms. Goggal was still upset with Aman. Keshav was playing the mediator.

“Keshav isse kehde mujhe faltu mein tang na kare warna khaa jayega.”

“Bhaiya, didi keh rahi hain unhe…”

“Haan haan sunn liya. Isse bhi kehde ki ab yeh kare na mujhse baat phir.”

“Didi, bhaiya keh rahe hain ki…” Keshav shuts his mouth as soon as he notices Goggal’s glare.

On their way to school, they’re not seated in their usual way. Aman is sitting on his usual seat beside the window with Keshav instead of Goggal next to him. Aman stares into nothingness. He seemed more distanced from his environment that he usually does. Goggal noticed this from the seat behind him. She felt bad for her brother. She knew she was his only friend but she just couldn’t forgive Aman’s reaction. And Aman, well as soon as he got a moment’s silence, his head started ringing with Goggal’s words like a stuck cassette tape. 

The bus came to a sudden halt almost a few hundred kilometres from their school. As Aman looked up, a boy from the last seat shouted to the driver, “Bhaiya chamaron ke bacche hain, chadha bhi doge toh kuchh nahi hoga” and the whole bus erupted into laughter. Goggal hit Keshav on the head, hard. Then she followed Aman’s fascinated gaze to a guy with wet, striking blue hair. Aman looked at him, eyes twinkling. Every hormone in Aman body flowing at the speed of light. If he had been at an arm’s length he would have touched the boy just to make sure that he is real. The blue haired boy laughed and every artery in Aman’s body started pumping blood into his heart while his heart, simultaneously, skipped multiple beats. Aman was frozen in his seat. His eyes following every movement of the boy’s hands as he narrated something to one of his friends or somebody for sure, Aman didn’t know, he couldn’t take his eyes off of him. As the blue boy’s kohl laden eyes shut in excitement, Aman’s hand reached his heart so as to stop it from jumping out of his chest. “Good gosh he has applied kohl under his eyes????? Who gave him the fucking permission?????? And then he has the audacity to get drenched in the rain and smudge it which just, somehow, makes them look twice as stunning?????????” As the bus starts again, our introverted boy Aman Tripathi stood up, pushed his head out of the window and followed the blue boys with his eyes until the blue of his hair had merged with the buildings in the background. The school bus stopped with a jerk and Aman was thrown against the seat in front of him.

“Keshav, apne bhai ko bata de ki woh ullu hai.”

“Bhaiya, didi keh rahi hain ki aap ullu ho.” And that is the first time Keshav had gotten to complete his sentence. 

“Ada-e-husn ki masumiyat ko kam karde  
Gunahgar-e-nazar ko hijab aata hai”

(Lessen your innocent manner of beauty, my guilt-ridden eyes want to veil themselves)


	3. Chapter 3

“Pehle milan mein yeh toh duniya ki reet hai  
Baat mein gussa lekin dil hi dil mein preet hai”

(This is the custom of first meetings all over the world: the lovers fume at the mouth but the hearts hide love)

“Gogloggalllll chup hoja please.”

“Achha kyun sharma raha hai mera bhai?”

“Aap log jo bhi baat kar rahe ho mere sar ke upar se jaa rahi hai.”

“Keshav tere sar ke andar vaise bhi bohot kam baatein jaati hain toh rehen de. Ab Aman tu sunn uss ladke ka ata-pata nikalwana padega.”

“Kis ladke ka?” says Keshav and Aman tries to match his curiosity as much as he could but fails miserably. 

“Keshav tu neeche jaa.” Keshav grunts and makes several ‘plich’ sounds but eventually leaves. 

“Ab sirf main hun, ab tu mujhse baat karega. Tera chehra jo chamka tha na aaj uss neelkamal ko dekhkar, bhai mere kisi ko bhi samajh aa jata kya chal raha hai if they knew you enough barring Keshav. Woh toh chutiya hai.

“Goggal pehli baat toh Keshav pakka seedhiyon par chhupa hua hai. Keshav saale bahar nikal.” Keshav pops out and then does what looks like a walk of shame towards Goggal and Aman. “Ab baith tu yahan tujhe vaise bhi kuchh samajh nahi aana.” Aman sits Keshav beside him. He didn’t want him to feel left out.

“Achha chal Keshav tujhe pata hai kya woh aaj school ke raaste mein neele baalon wala ladka kaun tha?”

“Jisko Aman bhaiya ghoor-ghoorke dekh rahe the? Didi, woh toh luhar ka beta hai. Aata hai ghar jab bhi Chachi tawa tod deti hain.”

“Naam-waam nahi rakha uske maa-baap ne kya?”

“Didi, puchha nahi kabhi.”

“Tu mila hai usse?” chimes Aman, visibly excited. Goggal chuckles. Aman did not know what drew him to a guy but he couldn’t control himself, no matter how much he wanted to. It was probably a guy having colored his hair in Allahabad that fascinated him. What else could it be, right? 

“Theek hai toh humein bhi tawa todna padega. Naam obviously mummy ka aayega toh hum mein se koi daant bhi nahi khayega. Par ab batao ki yeh karna kaise hai.”

“Yaar main koi tawa-wawa nahi tod raha kisi ladke ko dekhne ke liye.”

“Chal atleast tune accept toh kiya tu usse dekhna chahta hai. Aman, tujhe apne liye nahi karna toh samajh le tu mere liye kar raha hai. Mujhe milna hai usse jisne mere bhai ka dil chura liya.” Goggal says, in a teasing manner, wrapping Aman in a tight bear hug. Aman knew that Goggal knew that there was a storm surging inside Aman. As excited as Aman was to feel what he was feeling, he was at his most vulnerable at the same time. Excited because he was feeling anything close to what people called love for the first time and vulnerable because he was feeling anything close to what people called love for the first time for a guy. He just couldn’t understand himself and his heart, and the confusion ate him from the inside. 

Aman’s feelings were not not reciprocated. They had just found a different expression in Kartik. The first time Kartik had seen Aman, he felt like there was an invisible string connecting the two of them, like time would stop just because when the two of them would meet in just a few seconds. He just stared at Aman for as long as he could but as soon as he saw the house-help approaching him instead of Aman, that connection started feeling like a liability. What happened at the Tripathis’s wasn’t new to Kartik but for some reason he had never felt as dejected and as infuriated as he had that day. Kartik blamed himself for expecting anything more from a savarna. “You’re not any less, Kartik. You’re complete and you deserve as much respect as any of them do. Remember Ambedkar. Draw your strength from him. The Tripathis’s son is a casteist piece of shit and what he did has nothing to do with your worth. You’re strong. And you’re proud. You’re okay.” But Kartik wasn’t okay. Far from it actually. Kartik was disrespected by a person whom he never thought would hurt him and yes, he had made this assumption in a matter of seconds but doesn’t he have the right to be a normal sixteen year old, develop crushes and expect them to be fulfilled instead of being a victim to a casteist incident? He felt heartbroken, betrayed. But despite what had happened he couldn’t get the other boy’s image out of his head. Whenever he was reminded of the moment he saw the other boy for the first time, which he was at least once every two minutes, he was filled with fury and self-pity. There was another feeling as well but Kartik couldn’t quite put his finger on it, nor did he want to. 

A rainy Friday was when our boys crossed each other’s paths again. The bus drivers were on strike so, Aman and Goggal had decided to walk to school instead and Keshav tagged along. Kartik and his friends were also on their way to school, which was located in the other Dalit locality, on the other side of town. Goggal couldn’t ignore Aman’s curious looks in every direction as subtle as he tried to be. He was trying to get a glimpse of a certain blue haired boy, as he did daily. 

“Aman, yaar bas kar. Maine itna sahi idea diya tha par tujhe sunna nahi tha toh ab sulk toh mat kar. Dikhna hoga toh dikh hi jayega. Most probably samne se hi aata hai kahin se.” 

“Nahi, main usse nahi dhundh raha tha” Aman’s voice dissolved into a murmur by the end of the sentence. He goes on to kick stones on the street, dejected.

“BHAINS KI AANKH AMAN DEKH!”

Now, Goggal squealing or screaming is a very common thing, so, Aman looks up with the least bit of enthusiasm but surprisingly this time Goggal’s loud voice had not been for naught. There he was, with his glorious head of blue hair, and his kohl-laden eyes, breathing the same air as Aman. Aman’s legs stopped in their tracks, involuntarily, and so did his heart. Aman’s eyes did not move away from Kartik’s until he was out of his vision and it was not an out of sight, out of mind kind of incident. No, seeing the other boy made him loose sight of everything else. He did not notice a car honking repetitively, he did not notice when the said car eventually drove past him, splashing him with water from a puddle on the road, he did not hear Goggal chanting “Aman jaa usse baat kar”, he did not even notice the scowl that formed on the other boy’s face on seeing Aman. He just had one thought on his mind once after this: “Goggal, tawa todne ka time aa gaya hai.” 

So, the tawa had been broken, Champa Chachi had heard every taunt in Sunita Tripathi’s vocabulary, and Keshav had been told to ask the luhar to send his son. The trio’s mission had been accomplished. 

It was twelve in the afternoon when someone from the gate called out to Sunita Tripathi. Goggal, Keshav, and Aman stood up impatiently, and almost ran to the door of the house. 

“Goggal main nahi kar paunga.”

“Tu kitna bada wala hai yaar. Last moment par hagg mat. Chal ab. Dekha jayega jo bhi hoga.” Goggal said while dragging Aman by his elbow.

“Nahi yaar mujhse seriously nahi hoga. Tu chali jaa please main chat se hi dekh lunga.”

“Jaa mar” and with that Goggal went to Sunita in the kitchen to get the tawa, rolled her eyes really hard at the modus operandi told by Sunita of handing over the tawa to the young boy, and went off to give him the tawa like a normal person. 

“Didi aapka bhai aapko chhu lega iske baad?”

*tadak* “Abbey didi kisko bola be?” Aman choked on the roof. 

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry….wait aapne mujhe didi bolne par mara?” Kartik laughed. Aman breathed out such a huge sigh of relief that Goggal could feel it downstairs. 

“Haan aur kya laga tujhe? Aur kaunsa bhai mera?”

“Jo upar chhat se aapko ghoor ke dekh raha hai.” Goggal notices Kartik looking at her brother angrily but also with a gleam in his eyes. Now, Kartik Singh had a strong heart but nothing could prepare him for the sight that was awaiting him. Aman, standing on the Tripathis’s roof, the sunlight touching every inch of his adorable face, sweaty, with his brown eyes resembling pools of honey. 

“Pehli baat toh uska naam Aman hai”, Goggal says, interrupting Kartik’s trance, “Aur dusri baat who chhuega kyun nahi mujhe?”

Aman had been watching Kartik’s every move and wondered what was taking Goggal so long. He wished he had a bat’s ear so he could overhear their conversation but alas. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Goggal came back inside and Kartik left, laughing, which was surprising but he knew Goggal had amazing people skills. As usual Aman’s eyes followed Kartik until the last of him had disappeared.

“Kartik. Kartik hai uska naam”, Goggal said, interrupting Aman’s trance this time, “aur tera Tau Ji ko chutiya rakhna chahiye tha.”

“Mann hi mann mein laddoo phootein  
Naino se phuljhadiyan chhootein  
Hothon par takrar  
Kabhi aar kabhi paar laga teer-e-nazar  
Saiyan ghayal kiya re tune mora jigar”

(The lovers’ hearts are bubbling over with joy, while their eyes are bursting with firecrackers, and their lips are in an altercation. The arrow of glances have touched both here and there. Beloved, you have injured my heart.)


	4. Chapter 4

“Shit shit shit shit shit yaaaarrrrr” exclaims Aman, fraught with frustration. “Main toh andar ladai suljha raha tha isliye nahi gaya. Maine toh socha tak nahi yaar ki Kartik ko bura lag jayega”, Aman himself is taken aback by how softly he pronounced Kartik’s name for the first time as if the word ‘Kartik’ couldn’t refer to anyone else other than that blue haired boy he was enchanted by.

“Pehli baat toh usko “bura” nahi laga hai, he thinks you’re a casteist piece of shit. Aur dusri baat, tu apne ghar ki ladai suljhata reh aur auron se ladai palta reh. Aur chal iss incident se alag bhi, tu apne sar kyun leleta hai sab kuchh solah saal ki umar mein?”

“Yaar kyunki mujhe lagta hai yeh sab suaron ki tarah ladte hi rahenge phir pure time. Yeh chhod, tune kya bataya usko phir?”

“Main kya batati, maine toh bol diya haan mera bhai chutiya hai.”

“Goggle tu hadd karti hai bhayi kabhi kabhi.”

“Haan main tere defence mein qaseede padhti na usse. Tu khud baat karega usse aur batayega kya hua tha. Main do premiyon ke beech mein nahi aana chahti”, Goggle said teasingly.

“The fuck Goggle, hum premi nahi hain, mujhe bas dosti karni hai usse…he seems fascinating” And that is what Aman Tripathi had decided upon. He did not have any romantic feelings towards Kartik. He could not be gay. “Chhii why did I even think of that.” And Aman Tripathi was a stubborn fucker as Goggle would put it. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Kyaaa? Sahi mein.”

“Theek hai. Chal yeh bata ki miloge kaise usse.”

“Didi, dekho ch…sorry, Daliton ki do hi bastiyan hain”, Keshav contributed.

“Agar maine sunn liya na tere muh se woh shabd, Keshav tujhe kaat ke phenk dungi main bata rahi hun. Vaise baat teri sahi hai.”

“Toh woh unn dono mein se kisi ek mein rehta hoga, right? Ab yeh nikalna hai kisme. Maa-baap ko pata hoga nahi. Ya toh hum dono bastiyon mein jaakar dekhein par usme bohot time lag jayega aur koi guarantee nahi hai ki mil hi jaye. Usse seedha puchh sakte hain par ab woh tawa lautane aayega aur usme abhi ek-do din hain aur main itna wait nahi kar raha”, Aman said while pacing the entirety of the Tripathi’s roof, his voice raising and dropping. “Ruko! School toh sirf ek hi basti mein hai na aur agar Kartik roz subah school jaate hue road par dikhta hai toh woh pakka dusri basti mein rehta hoga”, Aman almost screams but fortunately Goggle shuts his mouth with her hand. The adults of the house are asleep after asserting their Brahmin identities the entire day while their gay (don’t tell Aman) child is busy making plans to meet a Dalit Ambedkarite and that, my friends, is the power of love. Of course, it doesn’t solve casteism but it does create space where we can exist. 

“Waah Aman tera dimag aaj bada tezz chal raha hai. Par problem yeh hai ki hum uss basti ka rasta toh jaante nahi hain aur na kisi se puchh sakte hain nahi toh pure Allahabad mein dhindhora pit jayega.”

“Radha Didi!! Woh bata toh chalo aise hi dengi par chup rehne ke paise lagenge. Ab woh kahan se aayenge?”

“Bhaiya, mere paas sau rupaye pade hain.” The other two look at him questioningly. “Arrey jab Tau Ji ki pant dhone mein de rahe the na, usse nikle toh humne emergency ke liye bacha ke rakh liye.”

The three of them sleep soundly, satisfied. Keshav was satisfied because he could finally contribute to his cousins’ plans, Goggle was satisfied because her brother might finally come to terms with his sexuality, and Aman was satisfied because they had cooked up a fool proof plan to meet Kartik. A blush crept up on Aman’s face each time he said ‘Kartik’ even in his thoughts. 

Kartik’s guts had been in a knot since the Tripathi’s. He couldn’t get the image of the sun kissed Aman out of his head. His heart rushed at the pace of a drum in a rock piece and then stopped completely, simultaneously. “Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. I should give him another chance right.” Actually, Kartik wanted to give Aman another chance and he knew deep down that he would give Aman another after that. He would keep giving him chances after chances until the chance of everything being a misunderstanding wasn’t over. Kartik’s father had been drinking and would probably drink all night so, Kartik knew he couldn’t get out that night. Kartik also knew that his father would say something brutal or he would receive a blow straight to the face any moment now but the thought of Aman kept him distracted from completely breaking down out of sheer terror. Something in Kartik’s life was finally going alright. He had hope for something to get better.

The overcast sky without a single raindrop had disappointed Aman in the same way that his search for Kartik had. When they had arrived in the Dalit basti behind Himmatganj locality, after a lengthy negotiation with Radha Didi, the three of them were quite eager but as they progressed into the basti they realized that everyone somehow knew that they did not belong there. Most of the women went inside their respective houses as soon as they saw Aman and Keshav, most of the younger men turned their backs to them as soon as they tried to talk, and the few who did talk to them made them feel like they were some divine beings and knew more than four-five Kartik’s. The night was drawing near and frankly they felt like they were invading the inhabitants’ space. So, disheartened, they decided to leave.

As soon as they had taken the last turn for exiting the basti, the clouds started to pour. Aman handed his umbrella to Goggle and Keshav. Nobody said a word. Aman felt like the universe was expressing the dejection he felt. As the clouds roared harder, Aman looked up at the sky only to see a speck of blue making its way towards the basti. His interest peaked. His pace increased. He slipped. He fell face first into a puddle. Keshav was jumped to help but Goggle grabbed his elbow and dragged him in the opposite direction. Aman was shocked at this but what he was more shocked at was when, out of nowhere, the blue haired boy, Kartik, extended his own hand to help Aman. It took a moment for Aman to realise what was happening, and another for Kartik to realise that on the other side of his hand was the boy he had been longing to see. Both of them turned a tomato shade of red. Aman declined Kartik’s hand because he really did know that his brain would stop functioning if he did.

Goggle scream-whispered from the turn behin Aman, “Aman tu kitna bada wala hai be.” That is when Aman realised what he had just done. “Aman you cannot fuck this up again. Calm down, take a deep breath”, he thought to himself, face growing redder by the second. Aman’s mouth open and closed a few times, trying to find the right words. He lifted his head to speak but no words came out. Kartik, with his kohl-laden eyes, smudged, water dripping down his face, was standing there, looking at Aman with a certain kind of expectation and Aman wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. But as soon as he started to speak, his brain fused. 

“Kuchh bolo…” That was the first time Aman heard Kartik’s voice but he was too lost in his eyes to notice.

“Uh..umm…main bas yahi bolna chahta tha ki….I..I’m sorry. Mera bilkul bhi woh matlab nahi tha. Andar sab lad rahe the toh main who sulja raha tha isliye Radha Didi ko bola. Aur matlab haan Goggle ne sahi hi kaha..main chutiya hun. Mujhe khayal rakhna chahiye tha. I’m sorry. I really am sorry Kartik tumhe aisa feel karwane ke liye.” This was the first time Kartik had heard Aman’s voice and the depth of it made Kartik want Aman to keep talking, which was exactly why Kartik kept mum. 

“Mera sach mein koi aisa matlab nahi tha…matlab of course maaf karna tumhare upar hai par please…” Kartik smiled and that’s when Aman found out that he had been missing something that had never existed in his life before.

“Baba, shaant ho jao”, Kartik said. Aman’s brain fused for the tenth time in a span of three minutes on hearing Kartik address him as ‘baba’. Aman knew he was gone for good. 

“Okay..”, Aman said meakly.

“Maaf toh kardiya..matlab obviously par aise kuchh khane ka mann kar raha….umm Unani college ke samne wale chai-pakode khane ka mann hai…par woh mujhe denge nahi…tum khareedoge mere liye?” Aman smiled and nodded. Aman would get him the stars if he could. 

So, off they went, Aman and Kartik on one side, under the open sky, shyness and the rush of their first meeting dripping with the rain, stealing glances at each other, and Goggle and Keshav on the other side, under the umbrella, bickering as usual. That’s when Goggle started singing Rimjhim Gire Sawan loud enough for the passersby to hear. Kartik and Aman did not understand what felt so right about that moment but they were happy and they decided not to overthink it. The universe expressed joy, drenching the two in it.

“Jab ghunghruon si bajti hain boondein  
Arma humare palke na moonde”

(When the raindrops ring like anklet bells, our desires do not close their eyelids)


End file.
